


Incense and Hymns

by AutumnPen



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Catholicism, Gen, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnPen/pseuds/AutumnPen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smell of incense catches Duo off guard. He takes a deeper breath, wondering where that earthy, smokey scent is coming from. It makes him think, suddenly, of Maxwell Church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incense and Hymns

The smell of incense catches Duo off guard. He takes a deeper breath, wondering where that earthy, smokey scent is coming from. It makes him think, suddenly, of Maxwell Church.

All he has to do is close his eyes and he can hear soft, melodic strains of Latin - Ave Maria or Salve Regina, he thinks. He can hear the tower bell echoing, can see the smooth, stone floors, the neat, wooden pews - all tinged a riot of colors by the light spilling in through stained-glass windows. He can see the smiling, kind faces of Father Maxwell and Sister Helen.

There was a long time during which he couldn’t remember any of this without sadness or anger flooding him to the brim. It made him sick - the memories tainted with a bitterness than ran so deep, wound around his bones and sunk into his blood, down in the very core of him.

He didn’t think he’d ever be able to let that go - that hurt. But he had. It wouldn’t be fair, he thought, to let his memories of the two people who first taught him about love, about kindness and faith and tenderness and care, to be forever stained with negative feelings. There had been good there, he had to remind himself. For a short time, there had been good. He owed it to them to remember that.

He’s found the source. There’s a small burning cone set on a small dish on the coffee table, a plume of white smoke ribbioning up from it, shifting with his every move or breath.

Duo doesn’t see Hilde enter the room, but he knows she’s there. He doesn’t say anything until she calls his name.

”Is something wrong?”

He half turns his head, speaking over his shoulder. “When did you get this?”

”On the way home. There was a street vendor - Why? Is it bothering you?” She worries maybe that he doesn’t like the smell. It puts some people off.

”No,” he says. “No,” again, softer, finally turning to her. His smile is so faint, his eyes so quiet, but lit with something so genuinely happy. Hilde is taken off guard. “I like it,” he finishes.

She nods her head, unsure what to say, afraid of somehow damaging this moment. Whatever is happening for Duo here, it is rare and it is delicate and she knows she needs to let him have it.

His smile turns by degrees into his customary grin and he claps his hands together. “So! What’s for dinner?”

She smiles and leads him into the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of thoughts about Duo and how he deals with his faith - both during an after the war.
> 
> I think after the war and after a lot of soul-searching and talking it out with people and traveling, his relationship with the Higher Power is easier. He probably doesn't return to Catholicism. He probably prefers not to label his beliefs. But it's undeniable that the Catholic Church and it's rituals stay with him, in certain ways, for the rest of his life.
> 
> I like to think that sometimes he passes by churches or cathedrals and hears the choir from inside. I like to think that he goes in, takes a seat in one of the back pew, and silently bows his head - maybe not to pray, but just to think, and listen, and remember.


End file.
